Pigeon Love
by gurj14
Summary: Now just various drabbles that explore what I think are endless Universes for Brittana, the things I wish I could expand on but just can't seem to... Pigeon in the Urban Dictionary also means (apparently) many things that could apply to these. (AU, perhaps occasional OOC)
1. Pigeon love

**A/N:** Okay so, this story is dedicated to It's Brittana who PM'd me requesting pigeon/Santana as a secret agent on behalf of a forum after the beauty that was the last episode, and i got my hands on that lovely clip of the 'surprise pigeon' which gets funnier every time LOL. Anyways, i told them I'd think about it after my exams but i wrote one today and my last exam is in 12 hours and since I need a break I wrote this. It's not exactly secret agent, but hopefully kind of what was wanted? I don't know. Hope it's funny?

**Disclaimer:** Do not own Glee or it's great characters, just write about them for fun.

* * *

How about i call this one **'Pigeon Love' **because I can't think of anything clever...er.

* * *

Brittany didn't tip her cab driver because he ran a red light. Like, she was a respected official in the CIA. She couldn't let him get away with that.

With a quick glance at her wrist watch, she realizes she's half an hour late for her… meeting. No, date. Date? No, meeting.

"I really should not be sleeping with her," Brittany says out loud as she enters the restaurant, ignoring the waiter who stutters questionably at her blazing entry and flash of her CIA-issued badge. Nobody ever questioned the badge, especially when sunglasses accompanied it.

She spots '_her'_ easily. Playing with a fork, looking kind of sad and lonely… but oh-so hot.

"Hi."

Taking a seat, Brittany doesn't apologize for being late.

"Hey!" The Head The Special Activities Divisions in the CIA, youngest and sexiest one ever, perks up like Brittany is a Christmas Present on Christmas Day and drops the fork back into it's place.

She makes to stand up but bumps the table and spills some water. So she sits back down her tan face flushed in horror and dabs at it with the white napkin.

Brittany flips the menu open and ignores her superior's faux pas.

The Head of SAD is dressed to the nines with perfect makeup, a nice red lipstick, tasteful jewelry, and a shimmering navy dress.

"I can't be too long," Brittany tells Santana Lopez's stupidly beautiful face, ignoring the way it falls and the instant hope dissolved.

"Yeah, no, I get it." Santana assures her, nodding along that it was cool even though it was obviously not cool. A waiter comes by and quickly gives Santana a new napkin as well as a water refill before scurrying off.

Brittany finds Santana's expressions are lame, and the way she always lets Brittany treat her with indifference and booty calls is even _lamer_.

Like, she has no game. She blushes and tries too hard… Santana Lopez was…

Brittany narrows her eyes as Santana's phone rings. She picks it up with a groan, and that pathetic 'please love me' face morphs into hot 'all business' face.

There it was. When she didn't try, Santana was one thousand percent full of game.

"What?" Santana bites out, her eyes darting back to Brittany before she hangs up and sighs. "Well I won't be staying long either."

"Who was that?" Brittany asks.

"Classified," is Santana's typical reply to all things.

That right there, her refusal to give Brittany info, is what makes this date worth it. It was pound time. Britt's libido just went – in the poetic words of Rihanna - from zero to sixty in three point five.

When you worked in covert ops and things were covert in covert ops? Total turn on.

"How about we skip?"

"I ordered your fav-" Santana stops talking when Brittany reaches over and presses a finger to her babbling lips.

"Pay the bill and meet me out front," she commands.

She stands up and winks before leaving Santana at the table with that furious blush, smirking to herself when something behind her thuds.

/

They first met in Camp Peary AKA The Farm years ago. It was just the two of them in the hall and Santana tripped and fell face forward. There was blood. Brittany helped her up and greeted her and then they never crossed paths again.

Until Santana was appointed in Washington. And Brittany was appointed in Washington. So they, like, met again in Washington.

First that mission where Santana accidentally killed a pigeon happened, and then when their mission was a success that drunken celebration turned into a moan-athon and Santana constantly asked her out which led to more moan-athons.

Why only Brittany witnessed Santana do tons of stupid shit like yelp and shoot down pigeons with her silencer, trip over her own feet in halls, get slushied by little ballerina girls who yeah were kind of evil but still just little ballerina girls, and walk into lamposts, Brittany will never know.

Like, from those situations alone she didn't think Santana deserved her catapult promotions or was capable of that stellar record she had. Who has the time to recover that much intelligence?

But everyone else coined Santana Lopez the 'best' or whatever.

What was awesome though, was that Santana's obvious crush on her became a series of hookups that were pretty damn good. Sure Brittany witnessed all of that embarrassing shit and _still_ slept with Santana a lot but whatever. A hot available girl wanted her and Brittany was just being nice.

Girl was a clumsy klutz around Brittany, but at least when they fucked she was precise and great.

"Oh yeah, just like that," Brittany tilts her head back into the brick wall and closes her eyes.

When Santana presses and sucks harder, she hears herself moan raggedly like a porn star. She came back for more because it was so damn good.

Oh yeah. Just like that.

She licks her lips and then adjusts her standard black suit pants by bringing them and and her thong back up over her hips to re-fasten and catch her breath.

Santana stands up and wipes her face with a napkin.

"Is that from inside?" Brittany raises en eyebrow, pointing her thumb back at the restaurant across the street.

Santana pauses and looks embarrassed.

Brittany doesn't get why she is, it's just a question. Then again, whenever she spoke directly to Santana the woman became a flurry of stutters and lameness.

"Uh… right… well, you um… I mean…"

"Let's do lunch on the weekend," Brittany says only because she feels bad for her stuttering 'boss.'

"Yeah totally!" Santana agrees eagerly like a dog getting food.

Ugh. Brittany tucks in her blouse and leaves first, not rolling her eyes too hard.

/

Okay so, the reason Santana annoyed her so much was because Brittany hated how she felt around the 'best' agent bound to be Director one day.

No matter what stupid thing Santana did, Brittany still wanted to have sex with her. It was exhausting and fucked up.

Wasn't the love of your life supposed to be a more romantic thing? Not some random person you witness trip on nothing and bleed all over the place, not some doofus idiot who killed a pigeon because it startled her when she was fixing her hair, and most definitely not someone who eats their pizza crust because like who _does_ that?

"I like it," Santana mumbles dejectedly.

Brittany feels like their dancing has gone on long enough.

"Well, you can eat mine if you want," She offers.

"I'm full," Santana says before her hand betrays her and darts out to eat Brittany's crust too.

"How was LA?" Brittany asks.

"Classified," Santana says apologetically.

"I asked how it was, not what – damn. Whenever you say that word I want to kiss you."

She leaned forward on her couch – they were hanging out in Brittany's apartment – and started kissing Santana.

But, since she was an awesome Special Agent and all… she realized something

"Wait, you dropped the pizza crust in anticipation to kiss me when you said _classified_."

"Yeah so?" Santana mumbles, trying to lean forward again.

Brittany ducks her head away.

"You totally say that so we can… but… huh?"

Like, no. Santana was _her_ fiddle. She played Santana, Santana did _so_ not play –

"I am so turned on by you right now," Brittany whispers before pouncing on her like a hungry dog on its meal.

Santana falls back with an 'oof' of pain but just goes with it as Brittany's hands go under her shirt and Brittany's lips slither all over her neck.

Santana breathes heavy, gasping whenever she's sensitive from a touch.

Brittany raises her head to look her in the eyes , "you're such a dork."

Santana's lips tremble. Either Brittany hurt her feelings or the finger Brittany has on her nipple is—

When Santana presses her own hand over Brittany's to stop her finger, Brittany realizes it's the nipple thing. No hurt feelings. Awesome.

After kissing more, Santana's lets out an odd whimper that Brittany hasn't heard before.

"What?" Brittany then realizes that actually Santana does look hurt, she's wincing.

"I have some bruised ribs," Santana wheezes out.

Sitting up instantly, Brittany is horrified. "Oh my god! Why didn't you stop me?"

"Because sex is the only time I can connect with you," Santana says sadly.

"We connect just fine," Brittany gets off of her and then surprises the both of them with tenderly combing Santana's hair back.

"We do?" Santana raises an eyebrow. "Because all our dates are incomplete, I can literally yell beautiful dialogues at people who screw up but can't seem say a damn word to you about anything without choking and doing something totally embarrassing and lame."

Brittany soaks in that sentence and tries to calm her beating heart down before she can reply sincerely, "well… yeah you do… but I like it."

And she does.

She's annoyed with a lot of things Santana does, but only because of the way Santana makes her feel. Santana makes _her_ feel lame and gooey.

"You… you do?" Santana looks shocked.

"I do," Brittany rolls her eyes and sits back down on the couch with a sigh. "Let's just… hang out. And talk."

"Yeah," Santana says shyly, "I would like that."

There a lot of things Brittany wants to tell Santana. Like, that when she tripped and bled all over the place, her ass looked great. And when those little girls threw slushies on her, her white shirt got all see-through and what was underneath looked really sexy. And, when she shot that pigeon down, it proved she had excellent marksmanship.

And mostly how when they kissed goodnight after talking for three hours on her couch about random shit, she was more than a sexual object Brittany had grown to appreciate sex with – she was truly beautiful and worth it.

Maybe for the first time, Brittany felt lucky in her life.

_Fin. _


	2. Parenting a la Mob

**A/N:** This bit I will dedicate to Killercereal who loves all things Sugar. My attempt at writing some Sugar as the daughter of our favourite couple.

**Disclaimer:** Do not own Glee or it's great characters, just write about them for fun.

* * *

Sugar Pierce really hates when her Mother is always right. The woman is standing there, just smirking.

"Mother," Sugar whines giving her best pout, inherited from her Mom to slay will in her favour, but the smirk across from her only grows. Pout fail.

"Maybe I should let you spend the night," Santana Lopez tells her oldest child with a snicker. The two men in black flanking her Mother smile in amusement and Sugar feels embarrassed.

She huffs, "you _wouldn't_."

"I don't know," Santana grips her chin between her thumb and pointer finger, pretending to think hard. "I remember telling you _not_ to do something stupid but you did anyway."

Sugar wants to cry, but she holds the tears back as the jailer fiddles with the large lock and then slides the bars of the holding cell aside.

Sugar turns her head back to the two hot guys that she got into this mess with and shrugs apologetically as she is freed and they are warned to stay seated.

"Hey hot stuff, can't your _Mother_ spring us too?" The hotter one that she had sex with against the dumpster gives her a smile that makes her want to have sex with him again. He's super dreamy.

"Don't you 'hot stuff' my daughter you little shit," her Mother successfully embarrasses her again and steps forward, glaring hard. "I understand you work for Lopez."

"Um…" the guys stutters, taken aback with the radical hate, "Y-yeah."

Sugar rolls her eyes and ignores her mother's closest henchmen, Karofsky and Chang, who stifle laughter as their boss tears into the unsuspecting poor chap.

"You might be the reason those guys die," Chang admonishes her.

Sugar shrugs, feeling only a _little_ bad for the two hotties who look like they've seen a ghost when her Mother points to herself all dramatic-like and declares she's the Santana Lopez they work for.

It's not Sugar's fault she's so hot that guys do dumb, illegal things to impress her. They get themselves killed or arrested, okay?

"Tomorrow morning you report to area seven, you go anywhere near my daughter again and I'll fucking castrate you, Lima Heights style!"

Lima Heights is code for machetes and sledgehammers. Sugar learned that the gross way when she walked in on her Mother using the sledgehammer on some dude's kneecaps because she needed help with math homework.

"I swear to fucking God, Sugar," her Mother is ranting as they leave the police station, "I had to pay that cop five grand. Five grand that could have sent you to college, wasted on a cop whose gonna give it to a hooker."

"I don't want to go to college," Sugar whines because she can. If anyone else whined to her Mother, they'd get Lima Heights treatment.

"You're going to fucking college."

The rest of the car ride is silent.

Eventually they stop at a gorgeous mansion, Sugar's home ever since she can remember. It actually belongs to her Mom who comes from old Wasp money.

She follows her Mother to the backyard, making sure her Mother sees her crossed arms and pointed non-stare in the distance.

In the backyard, there are more men and women in black loitering around and whispering, and a single white table laid with a breakfast feast. Thank God because she is _starving_.

"Hey baby," the smiling blonde at the table stands up and Sugar has to gag on principle because her parents are making out and they always seem to think she'd be okay with that. She's not. They're her _parents_.

"Britt, you look gorgeous," her Mother is laying it on extra sweet and even smiles which is weird because it's not even afternoon yet. When her Mother is smiling before noon Sugar knows it must be a special day. She tries to think and…

Oh. Right.

"Happy anniversary," she says to her parents.

"That's all you have to say?" Her Mother leans back in her chair and pops some grapes into her mouth. She doesn't really eat breakfast but gets on Sugar's case when Sugar doesn't eat breakfast which Sugar finds as hypocritical as the whole fucking college issue. Seriously, if neither of her parents went to college why are they making her go to college?

Her Mother goes off about how she didn't have the means or opportunity because of her poor background, but her Mom literally got into Ivy leagues and decided 'eh, I'd rather teach myself what i want to learn since I have so much money.' So unfair.

"Did you really set a car on fire?" Her Mom asks her now, twirling some of her blonde hair between her fingers and looking disappointed. "You know you have to be careful, your Mother has to be careful Sugar-Sweet."

Sugar sighs. She _knows _she fucked up. Does she really have to apologize?

"I-I'm sorry, okay? I just… got carried away having fun. I'm really sorry."

"Carried away?" Her Mother takes off the sunglasses and glares at that understatement. "Carried away, she says."

Shit, Sugar hates it when the sunglasses come off. That means she did something really bad. She does the only thing she can do in this situation, she looks to her Mom and pouts.

Like clockwork, her Mom pouts right back and then turns her super-powered 'can bring Santana Lopez to her knees' pout in the other direction.

"Santana."

Sugar thinks she's won because her Mom claims that's the pout that got Santana to marry her.

Her Mother's gaze softens, but the victory is short-lived as she shakes her head and refuses to make eye contact with her wife.

"No Britt, _basta!"_ Her Mother talks to her Mom but Sugar knows she's actually the one being spoken to in the first place. Classic parenting trick. "She's spoiled. She needs to learn, and she's not learning fast enough!"

"Baby," Her Mom sighs, clearly as uncomfortable as ever when there are family disagreements involved, "you remember what we were like when we were her age…"

"We weren't setting fires to cars and getting arrested with mobsters."

"I'm _your_ daughter," Sugar points out, "So, I'm like, mobster by default."

"I'm not a mobster," Her Mom points out, "you're my daughter too. We're rolling high socialites who get invited to auctions and stuff."

Her Mother nods, "totally. Sugar, you can do so much more than Lima Heights. Look at your Mom, she travels the world and uses her God-given brains. And _you_ are going to college so that my theory that you have brains can be proven."

"I don't want to-"

"If you don't go to college," her Mother puts her sunglasses back on and smiles a little smugly, "and get _some_ kind of degree, then you can kiss your inheritance goodbye."

So that's how Sugar ended up in college.

But the fact that she fell for Rory totally wasn't her fault. His charming Irish accent and sweet smile helped out sure, but it never would have happened if her parents hadn't sent her to college.

How was she supposed to know his father was an Irish mob boss in war with her Mother? Yeesh.


	3. scandal in good fortune

**A/N:** This is Mercedes/Santana as a famous singing duo and the fallout of a blast from the past.

* * *

Mercedes smirked at the sight of her man Matt in his boxer shorts, cooking her breakfast like she was a Queen. Life was amazing, life was perfect, life was—

"Cedes?" Matt looked at her in worry.

Her face was contorted in surprise and the sip of coffee she had taken was now sprayed all over the paper in front of her.

/

Mercedes went to work early, ignoring the stares everyone was giving her.

She was furious. She can't remember a time she's felt so furious.

"Hey," Santana greets her, always earlier than early when it's recording day.

Mercedes doesn't greet her back, she looks away from Santana's easy smile and then chucks her purse angrily at the couch on the side.

"Rough night?" Santana asks like nothing's wrong, "Matty boy not quite as good in the sack as you hoped?"

"How could you?" Mercedes whispers to her.

"Scuse me?" Santana's chin ducks in and she smirks, "he really that bad? Damn girl."

"This is not about Matt, this is about _you_!"

Santana's eyes are full of worry and panic, "what about me?"

"Have you read the entertainment paper today? Googled your name online per chance?"

/

"Santana Lopez, Brittany?! Really?!" Quinn Fabray yells, slamming her hand palm-down on the table. "How long has this been going on!"

Brittany clenches her jaw and says nothing, looking away from Quinn.

"You're getting married to Mitch Cronin!" Quinn hisses, "And now you're America's biggest slut– congratu-fucking-lations!"

When Brittany still doesn't say anything Quinn stops her yelling and sinks down on the sofa.

"What has Mitch said?" she asks Brittany.

Brittany's eyes wet with tears, "he yelled at me like you just did. Didn't let me _explain_."

"What's there to explain? I think this-" she raises a picture of Brittany (famously good, sweet, faithful girl), passionately lip-locked with Santana Lopez (bad, bitchy, menacing) "—is pretty explanatory. God, you really fucked up Brittany. Not only did you cheat on the most amazing man in the world, but you cheated on him with _her_. The media is crucifying both of you!"

"Well they're wrong!" Brittany yells back, making Quinn shut up. "I never cheated on him! You know why? Because she's my _past_! That photo is FIVE YEARS OLD, QUINN!"

Quinn stutters, "o-oh."

/

Santana shakes Rachel Berry's hand before sitting down with her.

She's heard that Brittany's engagement was broken off over this, that Brittany's image has been tarnished and ripped at.

It's only been a week and she feels like crap. Mercedes is furious because their fans are getting crazier and their album could suffer, and mostly because Mitch Cronin is Mercedes' friend.

She has never given interviews, part of her gimmick with Mercedes is that Mercedes does all that sweet-talking crap while Santana is known for her snark, mean quotes, and party pics. She's literally made a living off of being an infamous bitch.

The only thing that complimented their duo in the public eye were their voices which sounded amazing together and sky-rocketed them to fame. Church praising woman of God Mercedes makes amazing music with bad lesbian on the path to hell. It sold itself, really.

"I've had Mercedes a few times," Rachel is amiable and kind during the taping, "we were surprised when you offered."

Santana nods. It's a live taping so she really can't screw this up. She has to be exact.

"Yep. Offered for a very specific reason, actually. I want to set the record straight about me and Brittany Pierce."

She hears some gasps in the audience. Maybe she should have made more small talk before cutting to the chase?

"About the affair?" Rachel asks, not surprised with the abrupt change in conversation.

"That's just it," Santana steadies her voice. "There was no affair."

"So a passionate kiss between friends then?" Rachel giggles, and the live audience laughs as The Picture is propped up.

Santana scoffs, which causes Rachel's smile to falter and the audience to quiet down.

'That right there, is five years old. That right there is me and my ex-girlfriend in a private moment five years ago."

/

Brittany watches the interview. Santana's reveal of their history breaks the internet and gains her thousands of followers in ten minutes… and Mitch starts phoning her within seconds.

She ignores it because a man who wouldn't let her explain is not the one for her after all.

She wants someone who thinks she's more than a two-timing slut.

"_What I don't like about this situation is how people responded_," Santana had said to Rachel. _"I know Brittany, she's not a cheater. No one let her speak, they spoke for her. I know her and I'm sorry for the trouble knowing her has caused."_

"_Do you hope her relationship will survive now that you've cleared the air?"_ Rachel had asked Santana.

Brittany smirked as she recalled the answer, _"Hell no. Look, I hear good things about Cronin – the dude is liked, whatever. I don't know the guy… but who asks a woman to marry them and then refuses to listen to their explanation? I heard he broke it off over this… that speaks for itself. Not very solid."_

Commercial break, and Brittany could already hear the apologies.

Santana was still a bitch, but at least she was honest.

/

"Now you're Mitch's rival," Mercedes is still mad. "You said on the RACHEL BERRY SHOW by the way, that he doesn't deserve Brittany! You know the shit being said on the Internet? You know how many Cronin fans are hating on us now?"

Santana just files her nails.

Sure, her interview was completely tactless but it got the message across. Brittany made no mistake and neither did she, the people who judged them did. She even said so before leaving. 'People are going to attack me now, but I'm just giving my honest opinion and I won't regret it… it's why I don't do interviews.'

Rachel thought it was hilarious and seemed to agree with all of Santana's points of view so, maybe in the future Santana would be open to being interviewed by her again.

"Why'd you break up with her?" She hears from Mercedes hours later, when the woman has cooled off her tirades of their career being fucked up because of Santana's smart-mouth.

"I didn't," Santana answers quietly. "I never dated her."

"But you said she was your ex-girlfriend," Mercedes accuses.

"We fucked a lot, okay?" Santana hisses. "For years. It wasn't dating because I was in the closet and too afraid to tell her that I loved her… it doesn't matter. I didn't want her to sound like… just, leave me alone okay?"

Mercedes is Mitch's friend but she's Santana's partner, so she agrees to drop it.

"Is she your daydream queen?" Mercedes asks gently.

"Obviously," Santana lets her friend know that much, "you've seen her dance."

/

"Ex girlfriend, huh?"

Santana freezes at that voice.

They both circulate the entertainment industry, there was only three degrees of separation for so long, and still they managed to avoid each other.

She turns her head, and sure enough Brittany is standing next to her.

"I forgive you, you know," she tells Santana with a serious face.

"For what exactly?" Santana asks her. "Never cuddling?"

They share a laugh and then go back to looking at the skyline together.

"I loved you," Santana tells her because she may never get another chance. "I got scared because of how much you meant to me and I screwed everything up."

"You really did," Brittany tells her. "I would have waited for you."

Santana closes her eyes in pain, like hearing that confession ruins a part of her justifying her past action. It was easier to believe Brittany would have rejected her.

"I've seen Prarie Town thirteen times," she says of Brittany's film, a nonsensical comedy that boosted her to stardom.

"I _hate_ Daydream Queen," Brittany tells her in response. "It always made me angry."

They stand together and enjoy the silence once again.

A couple of years later another photo of them is leaked, passionate lip-lock and all (but it's in present time and they're getting married so it doesn't cause as big a scandal as it once did.)


	4. ur gf is a rich bitch ppl don't like, yo

**A/N: **So everyone thinks your girlfriend is a bad person but she's not...

Warning: Third party POV and one-sided crush

* * *

Dalia Thomas has had her share of crushes since coming out of the closet in grade school (starting with her fourth grade teacher Mrs. Kirby-Blax) but this crush was like nothing else she had ever felt. Considering it was still there, two years later, sparked by a single flirtatious meeting.

"Could she be anymore perfect?" Dalia asked rhetorically, watching her _crush_ bend over and pick up a littered can of soda to throw in the recycling bin nearby.

Nobody just _did_ that these days.

"I could watch her bend all day," her best friend, one surfer-boy dreamboat Ryder Lynn, nodded his head in agreement.

She slapped his arm for ogling her crush so objectively, and then lifted her coffee cup to her lips and let out a dreamy sigh.

_Just perfect. _

"Heard she wowed July. Nobody wows Cardiovascular Legend Cassandra July," Unique, their other close friend and college-mate flipped her hair and shook her head like she couldn't believe, "Girl's like a genius or something."

"Are you guys talking about me?"

The girl in question appeared, holding her backpack's straps where they covered her shoulders. Her blonde head was tipped and her blue eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Um h-hey Brittany," Dalia swallowed thickly, cheeks flushing ever so sweetly from crush's presence. Totally welcome presence.

Brittany's face lit up into a genuine smile at her, "hey Dalia."

Ryder and Unique snickered between each other as Brittany took off her backpack and joined them on the outdoor round table, grabbing an apple from her bag to take a bite out of. _Sinking her teeth in and sucking with those lips before chewing…_

They were sitting in the quad at McKinley University, right outside the Lopez Medical Institute they all attended together. LoMeIn for short, half because everybody loved Chinese takeout and half because of the amount of Asians that got in which raised a few racist eyebrows.

Dalia glared at her two friends to make them stop chuckling at her expense and then cleared her throat, "so uh, how are things?"

"Pretty good," Brittany leaned her chin on her palm, "last night I took Santana to the theatre for her birthday... to see Chicago. She likes musicals."

And there was the reason Dalia couldn't make a move on Brittany. Brittany had a girlfriend.

(A total _loser_ of a girlfriend, in Dalia's opinion.)

Santana Lopez was the granddaughter of the man who founded Lopez Medical Institute, one prominent and fucking Saint of a man: Antoine Lopez. On top of his legacy, both of her parents were each well-known and renowned doctors who had contributed great money and prestige to medicine in their time while she, the only heir to their massive fortunes (because her parents died when she was five in a freak yacht accident), was a med school student on the verge of dropout who partied and did nothing with her life and somehow managed to get Brittany Pierce of all people to date her.

It was just as weird to Dalia that Brittany, the science smarty-pants that made it out of foster care with a hard work ethic to secure a scholarship to Lopez Med and always had a sunny smile to spare everyone, was into the cliché rich douche that was Santana. A simpler word to describe Santana was 'bitch,'

That very Santana Lopez was now suddenly at their table, sliding next to Brittany. _Speak of the devil and they shall appear…_

"Hey Britts," she casually inserted herself into the conversation, fixing those large sunglasses that probably concealed her latest hangover. The dark jeans and red t-shirt she was sporting were likely stitched onto her they were that tight.

"Hey!" Brittany smiled brightly at her entrance and swallowed her mouthful of apple, "It's like I summoned you or something."

Santana leaned forward to steal a quick kiss and Dalia scowled. She felt her hopes crushed from how Brittany enjoyed the attention and her heart beat in jealousy from how Santana got to have that.

"What brings you here?" Brittany asked Santana.

"Board meeting," Santana said before shrugging casually and then gesturing that she would now walk off. "So I'll let you get to it. See ya tonight."

She leaned in again, and they whispered something that was likely 'I love you' to each other before Santana continued on her way to her car.

Brittany sneezed and started rummaging through her bag for Kleenex just as a guy bumped into Santana accidentally and got rudely shoved off of her with a sneer and, "watch it!" before he could apologize.

Dalia sighed, looking back to her books. Santana was a grade A bitch and spoiled rich girl who walked all over everybody. She didn't even _acknowledge_ them, as if they were beneath her greetings! And on top of that, she did actions like shove that unsuspecting guy within earshot of Brittany and Brittany seemed to always miss that part of her.

Good looks and money were all she had going for her and Dalia didn't think Brittany was that shallow of a person. What did she see in her?

She thought Brittany deserved better, and more than anything she wanted to be the one to treat her better. Ever since they first met she's wanted nothing more than to be closer to Brittany and as she saw Santana Lopez clamber into her sports car and rev the ignition she decided that all the pent up crush-feelings needed closure.

Go for it or get over it, right?

"Let's study," Brittany announced to Unique, Dalia, and Ryder. "Is anyone else joining us?"

/

"I mean look at her," Dalia Thomas murmured spitefully into her beer bottle, "she's paying more attention to her phone than Brittany."

"How are you still hung up on Britt?" Ryder nudged her shoulder. "I thought you got over her when you started hooking up with Charlene."

Dalia shrugs. "Well I'm not hooking up with Charlene anymore and Britt studies with me so we spend a lot of time together still, you know? Lets do some shots, Lopez is pissing me off."

"You buy, I got the last round," Ryder bargains. "Whiskey."

The woman who had the privilege of being Brittany's was typing something out on her phone, totally unaware that she – in Dalia's opinion – was ignoring the best chick in the world to play on her phone. "Bitch."

Across the bar, Santana groaned and finished texting a short e-mail. It was kind of urgent, she had to respond to one from her lawyer about her Lamborghini which had recently had its tires slashed and windows smashed. Apparently the dumbasses responsible didn't realize she only ever parked where there were security cameras (because she knew crap like this was bound to happen to her, people just didn't _like_ her) and their faces had been matched with previous juvy offenders so that had been a quick arrest.

"Bitch," some guy said to her, walking by and bumping into her shoulder harshly.

Again. People just didn't _like_ her.

Her phone fell down from the hit and she bit her tongue to stop her rage before calmly reaching down and picking it up again. Besides her, Brittany touched her elbow, having snapped out of her thoughts at the noise.

_Leave me alone you fucking piece of shit,_ Santana mentally said to him so as not to cause a scene. Maybe she glared a little too, she found it hard not to.

He didn't leave her alone, though. He hung around, apparently looking for a fight, and turned fully to face her.

"Oops. Sorry," he said unapologetically, taunting her with his hands help up in surrender.

His friend that was with him, another young male, chuckled. Santana tensed, glaring harder and more threateningly. She felt her girlfriend move a little closer and rub her back to stop her from giving into their heckling.

But, damn it, she hated it when men who were larger than her made her feel so _small_ and she hated looking weak. She had suffered enough bullying attempts in boarding school to know it was never okay to let someone fuck with you.

"Woah, no need to _glare_. How about I buy you a drink?" He schmoozed, eyeing her body up and down and then winking at Brittany over her shoulder.

And he was fucking with her.

Like that. Being inappropriate and making her feel gross and objectified in front of her _girlfriend _who was the only person Santana ever let objectify her or whatever.

"Fuck off," Santana snarled, stepping forward to warn him with her 'I'm not joking' face and then going back to pressing send on her phone and ignoring him.

Like the instigator he clearly wanted to be, he stepped closer in return. She felt Brittany's fingers dig into her shoulder like she knew something bad was going to happen.

Brittany even said lowly, "careful."

Santana looked up and raised an eyebrow threateningly when she realized he was still staring and making Brittany equally uncomfortable with his proximity.

"What part of fuck off don't you understand?" She was too impatient to let him figure his next move out. She crossed her arms and felt like she knew where this was going.

"Ohhhhh hear that everybody?" He yelled out to the bar, "Rich Bitch told me to _fuck_ _off_. SORRY LOPEZ, YOUR MONEY DON'T MEAN SHIT HERE."

Yep. It was the case of her Lamborghini all over again. People _hated_ her, apparently 'didn't like' was an understatement.

Santana now realized she had been led on from the get-go, so she slipped her phone into the pocket of her dress and smirked amusingly at him (be the bigger person, Brittany's voice was saying to her) before turning around to leave, her hand resting on Brittany's waist to urge her along.

Of course, maybe she hurt his pride with her kind of taunting smile, so he wasn't so quick to let things drop.

"HEY!" He grabbed her shoulder and jerked her back. "I'M TALKING TO YOU!"

To be fair, she had a lot of anger bottled up. Her elbow cracked him in his gut and then she lifted her leg and kneed him in his stomach so he hit the ground in pain.

Martial Arts, baby. Britt suggested they take classes together a few years back and those definitely paid off.

She was so, so, sick of this shit. People wondered why she preferred not attending lectures or college in general and it was because of _this_. This whispering judgmental crap—

"Santana!" Brittany was by her side, pulling her gently away from the groaning asshole on his knees, "are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she assured Brittany with a snarl aimed at the man getting back to his feet. "This fucker is messing with me."

"Yeah. Maybe we should go," Brittany suggested.

"You fucking attacked me!" The guy pointed a finger at Santana and lunged forward aggressively. "You bitch!"

"Woah," Brittany stepped in between them, holding her hands up to stop the guy from charging forward by shoving his shoulders back, "this is a post-exams party. Let's just have fun and stop the violence-"

He knocked her hands off his shoulders and then shoved Brittany back into Santana and snarled his anger at her now, "look at you Pierce! You're not some fucking genius like everyone _thinks_, you're just a fucking _slut_ whoring your grades out! Some of us actually work-"

Santana steps around Brittany and punches him right in the face, this time following the drop of his body to the ground with another and another in her rage.

Brittany grabs Santana and pulls her off before the fourth punch can land, "Stop it! Santana, STOP IT!"

Santana is stopped quite easily because while Brittany detests violence, she was not afraid of it in order to put a stop to it.

Standing up, Santana looks down at the beaten instigator on the ground with contempt, aware that now they were the center of attention in the bar and more people were stepping forward to stop it from getting worse (or take pictures with their phones).

"Don't take your issues out on her if you're failing at life!" She yelled loudly at him, "You know _shit_, you're just an insecure bitch and I'm going to make you regret you EVER-"

"Santana!" Brittany yelled at her in horror the same time the forgotten friend lunged out of nowhere with an empty beer bottle and crashed it down on Santana's head before Brittany could get in-between to stop it.

People were stunned into silence as the glass crashed over Santana's head. She stumbled into Brittany, finding it hard to find balance. When she did, she ignored the pain and reacted in rage.

/

"Fuck, lemme guess," Dalia narrows her eyes at the video Ryder was playing on his phone (of Santana punching Alex Firch in the face at the bar last week), "Lopez is going to get away with violence and Alex takes the whole fall."

"Hey, Firch was way out of line. I heard he flunked his midterms and he took it out on her," Artie Abrahams said quite diplomatically in their study group.

Ryder put his phone away. Their study group – minus Brittany who was AWOL since The Barfight – was having a superb burger and milkshakes feast to celebrate their hard work at passing mid-semester.

"To be fair," he said to Artie, "Lopez never shows up for classes and still passes. That's not fair when you got guys like Firch who try but still get flunked and then make _one_ mistake and are kicked out of med school."

"Dude," Artie raised an eyebrow, "What about Firch's friend? He smashed a beer bottle down on Santana's _head_. He could have _killed_ her. Lucky it was one of them recycled Slushie brands ones, lighter and shit."

"It didn't look that bad," Dalia said, darting her eyes down to her plate. "I mean, he didn't use that much force and the glass broke on impact. She kicked him in the nuts _way_ harder."

"Bitch is a dirty fighter," Ryder said with a smirk, "surprise, surprise."

Dalia laughed. "Brittany looked pretty uh, pissed off there."

"Mhm," Artie chomped on his fries, "yeah, she texted me this morning saying she didn't get any seep last night so she must have been dealing with it all night."

"Can't believe Lopez started a fight with Brittany right there, you know?" Dalia said, careful not to sound too contemptuous.

"That thing escalated though," Ryder chuckled, "the cops were pissed!"

"Tell me about it," Artie said before recalling his version of the brawling that started happening on the other side of the bar with some motorcycle club who took advantage of the mood.

/

"Look, this arrest does not look good for you," Dean Schuester said firmly to Santana. "You rarely show up to class, you have to retake half of your exams in private as it is and even then you barely pass! And now violence with hardworking students in public? I'm sorry Santana, but we're going to have to take disciplinary action-"

"I want a fucking apology from them. I want _them_ to APOLOGIZE." Santana cut off the Dean. "This? Yeah, not my fault. They started it!"

"You were _all_ arrested for starting a brawl, Santana, you are just as much in fault-"

"I AM NOT!" Santana stood up and slammed her hand on the large oak conference desk, startling the Dean and the other Board of Directors present at her hearing.

"I secured a copy of the video surveillance! That guy came up to me, knocked my phone out of my hands. He instigated this and he assaulted me. I defended myself, then I defended my girlfriend who he called a whore, AND THEN I DEFENDED MYSELF AGAIN BECAUSE HIS FRIEND TOOK A BOTTLE TO MY HEAD! You're all doctors, you know that could have been a pretty fatal injury. I. Want. An. Apology."

Silence ringed and she covered her face for a moment before exhaling and walking towards the door.

Before she left she added tersely, "Look, I'm not pressing charges because I gave as good as I got and the police agreed not to press any either. We don't need this in the papers… but I could have been seriously injured or killed. _Me_. Lopez of Lopez's almost killed by such an UPSTANDING Lopez student, either out of jealousy or hate - I don't fucking know. You think about that before you think I need disciplinary action. Student or not I am THE Lopez in this fucking institution and I'm not going to sit by and let you tell me I'm wrong. Either get me what I want or you're all fucking gone from this place!"

The door was slammed loudly behind her. She thinks she made her point, but she hates herself or being the spoiled rich kid everyone tells her she is in order to have made it.

/

Ever since the bar fight, Brittany was worried about Santana. Santana had reverted back to a lot of her old habits from earlier years of her rebellious bad girl life. They had been friends for-practically-ever before realizing they were more than that, and during that time Brittany had come to appreciate how Santana had grown. Seeing this old sadness emerge once again was frustrating and a little sad.

Santana was drinking a lot of wine every night, sleeping in and missing classes (though that was kind of normal actually), eating junk food (mostly instant noodles), and lounging moodily in her home theatre system room with some movies. It was what she did at boarding school, it was lonesome and depressing.

But at least her girlfriend bothered to pick her up from school so she didn't have to take the bus, which was sweet. Especially when Brittany had felt tired from her day of classes and was gifted with Santana's cute 'I'd rather be watching more bad movies' pout.

"Here," Brittany gives her a smoothie from the cafeteria, trying to distract Santana from the fact that a lot of students were noticeably staring and pointing. One person's voice quite loudly clarifies "yeah man she totally stabbed the guy."

"What's this?" Santana lifts her sunglasses up and looks at the drink.

Rolling her eyes at the skewed tale, Brittany snapped Santana's attention back.

"Something that isn't alcohol or Chef Min's instant noodles."

Santana takes it and sips it carefully. "It's alright. So, uh, you want to go shopping?"

"Santana… this funk you're in?" She ignores the proposition to shop and confronts her tight-lipped company more directly.

Her girlfriend's jaw stiffens, knowing her behaviour would eventually be brought up for discussion.

"It's unattractive for one," Brittany says while leaning forward and kissing her cheek. She softly adds, "and I want you to know that even if you feel this way, I'm here. I love you. You're strong honey, don't let them get to you."

Santana sniffles at the words and then turns her head away from Brittany's loving gaze for a request of her own, "can you drive us home?"

Brittany nods, getting into the driver seat. It feels like it was only yesterday Santana was patiently teaching her how to shift the gears and when. Time goes by when you're having fun.

When they get to the Lopez penthouse, Santana stops Brittany from getting out of the car. "Wait."

"Yeah?"

"Um… that shit that guy said, about you…"

"Whoring myself for grades?"

"That. Do people say that crap about you often? Because I will end them."

Brittany _has_ heard that crap before, but she's always liked to think that every time she gets the answer in a class and every time she has the highest mark on an exam it's enough of a 'you were saying, bitch?' statement. She can forgive Firch calling her a whore because she knows she's better than him and doesn't need his acceptance. She can forgive Santana getting arrested and violently acting out because Santana was standing up for things Brittany stood up for.

(But she wasn't so quick to forgive that other guy who smashed a bottle against Santana's head.)

"No, Santana," she tells her girlfriend. "Do you really think I need to be saved from words of spite like that? It's nothing I can't handle."

Santana gazes at her in genuine admiration, "I know _that_. I hope I can be as brave as you… I'm sorry for being so uh…"

"You are brave," Brittany leans forward and kisses her nose quickly to dismiss whatever apology was about to be uttered, "you're just also temperamental is all. Let's go inside? We can study for-"

"Can we _not_?"

"Santana."

"You don't need to study much cuz your brain is all-knowing and shit and I don't give a fuck, so…"

"Okay we won't study… if you agree to go back to classes tomorrow."

"Ugh. Fine. Thanks for the smoothie, by the way… and Britt?"

"Hm?"

"Love you."

/

_Dalia got shoved playfully by Tim Douglas, but the guy was huge so she kind of went tumbling farther and ended up bumping someone. _

"_Fuck off you dick," the girl she had hit said as she scowled down at a now drenched front. It was soaked in the beer that had spilt from Dalia's cup. _

"_Oh god," Dalia blushed brightly, never much of a speaking person when hot chicks were involved. "I-I'm so sorry-"_

"_Save it," the hot girl snapped before storming off, presumably to a bathroom. _

_Feeling like shit, Dalia sighed sadly and hung her head. _

"_Sorry Dal," Tim said softly, looking apologetic. "But hey, I didn't spill anything so at least I still got a chance with that babe."_

"_It's okay buddy," she said. "I'm gonna go get a drink."_

_He nodded, giving her a high-five before she set off to the drinks table. _

"_Yo! Dal!" A familiar voice called her out as she picked up some vodka. _

"_Ryder, hey," She leaned into his one-armed hug and then her eyes lit up when he quickly introduced her to a stunning blonde beauty. _

"_This is Brittany, she's 'the one' who aced Pharmacology, you know scholarship chick, and now she totally just beat me doing shotguns," he said, clearly impressed and kind of drunk. "And Britt this is my lesbro Dal who is also in our year. She's like every chick's Knight in Shining Armour or something. Be easy on her, she gets shy."_

_Blushing, Dalia shook Brittany's hand and melted at the pretty smile shot her way. She had heard of Brittany, she was publically introduced at the introductory banquet to med school last month as the honour entry, the kid who got The Scholarship – the full ride. _

"_You're cute," Brittany said flirtatiously._

_Dalia blushed and set up to mixing another drink to calm herself, "vodka cran?"_

"_And some seven up please," Brittany leaned in close. "So this is your house, right? You share it with Ryder and Tim? Nice party."_

"_Yeah…" Dalia swallowed her suddenly dry throat. "we're holding it to celebrate our first month at med school and… I think our whole school showed up!"_

"_I think so," Brittany yelled over the music and accepted the drink given to her, lifting it to her pink lips, "thanks for the drink. Bartending is very hot."_

_Dalia bit her bottom lip as Brittany leaned close to her with a flirtatious touch to her shoulder and said, "I like it."_

_It was shout-whispered right next to her ear, but cut off too soon when a voice interrupted them. _

"_The hell is going on here?"_

_Brittany leaned away from her and then spun easily on her heel to greet the intruder. _

"_I'm not talking to you," Brittany said pointedly to the intruder. "I'm talking to… Dalia."_

_The intruder was the same girl Dalia had bumped into earlier. She was standing in front of them with her arms crossed and her lips were set in a thin line while she glared for a long moment at a stunned Dalia before reaching forward and grabbing Brittany's hand to pull her away. _

_Brittany waved 'goodbye' at Dalia as the two of them disappeared amongst the crowd. _

"_So, how'd it go?" Ryder slipped up next to her. "You got a date, right? Looked like she was interested."_

_Dalia tried to recall what just happened before she set off on her feet quickly, ignoring Ryder's confused question as she went in the direction she saw Brittany disappear. _

_A gorgeous blonde like that doesn't flirt with just anyone, and Dalia hoped her random friend that took her wasn't telling her to ignore the 'jerk who spilt her drink' or something. She'd clear the air, it was an accident. She was not a jerk. _

_She heard some distant heated yelling outside her house and saw her mystery Brittany and the other girl looking like they were having a fight. _

"_This is so like you!" Brittany was saying just as her friend said, "Will you let me explain!"_

"_Brittany!" She interrupted them, hoping a fight wouldn't escalate, "hey. What's going on?"_

"_Mind your own business bitch," the shorter, hot, racially unclear chick who had soaked up her beer sneered. _

_Dalia was taken a back by the hostile attitude and raised her hands in a surrender fashion. Like, yeah she spilt a drink but jeez. _

"_Santana!" Brittany defended Dalia by snapping at her friend before turning to Dalia and sighing. "Hi. Um, listen… it was nice speaking to you but something's come up. Bye! Nice party and good luck with Anatomy!"_

_This time it was Brittany who grabbed the other girl's hand and dragged her away. _

_Dalia watched as Brittany disappeared down the street and sighed sadly. There was always another day. _

_Of course it turned out that the hot mean chick was THE Lopez child. It was bad enough that Dalia spilt a drink on Lopez, hearing Brittany was her girlfriend made it even worse. _

_Dalia felt like she couldn't compete with a wealthy and pretty girl like Santana, who got away with being a bitch because of her trust fund and profits from LoMeIn medical equipment sales. _

_That sob-story of her parent's yacht being tampered with was the reason she got away with being such a colossal tool and it was just unfair someone like Santana who had everything also got the girl. _

_The flirting always made her wonder, though. Did Brittany find her attractive? _

_/_

There was a lot of things Santana Lopez liked doing instead of going to school. She was a spoilt rich kid with money to burn and a hot girlfriend to keep interested, so school was the last thing on her mind.

"You should really get to Harper's class," Brittany tells her while choosing an outfit for the day, "his exams are covered in review. You won't even need to study."

Groaning, Santana just flips the covers over her head.

"I'm allergic to the sun."

"Shut up," Brittany giggles at her silly excuse, "besides, I'd prefer a ride with you instead of taking the bus. It's super couply, and we haven't done anything couply since getting a milkshake with two straws."

See now this is an argument Santana can be swayed with. Hell no does she want Brittany taking the bus. Last time Brittany took the bus the driver swerved into on-coming traffic.

The duvet is flipped down and she pouts until Brittany kisses her in apology.

"Gunther!" Santana yelled for her butler. "Make me and Brittz some breakfast!"

"Please!" Brittany yells additionally with a charming tilt.

"Yes, breakfast for Miss Brittany of course!" Gunther yells back, "And a glass of manners for you," he snips while walking by her open bedroom door and towards the kitchen in Santana's apartment.

"What a fucking dick," Santana huffed, "I should fire him."

Brittany, more than used to Santana and Gunther barbing, stands up and twirls in her skirt before leaving the room, "get up Santana! Today is the day you go to at least one class! We had a deal!"

/

Like clockwork, Santana Lopez finds time to ruin Dalia Thomas's day.

With an obnoxious parking job of her yellow Lamborghini, bitch of the world herself jumps out of her car and lets her thousand dollar clothes shine in the morning sun.

Of course to Dalia there is nothing as brilliantly sunny as Brittany Pierce. Brittany gets out of the passenger side door and exchanges a quick word with Santana before they walk in opposite directions. Santana heads to the Lopez Institute of Medicine Building while Brittany heads to where Dalia is sitting with their random study group on the lawn outside the Medical Faculty.

"Hey girl," the man sitting next to Dalia extends his hand for a high-five that Brittany eagerly returns with a grin.

"Elliot! So, you guys ready for the cadavers today?"

"As ready as ever," Dalia says to Brittany with a smile, feeling her heart flutter when Brittany returns her soft smile.

She notices it later in the day, that Santana is at school for once yes but she's avoiding Brittany. Or Brittany is avoiding her…

Whatever it is, Dalia isn't the only one to notice.

"Santana doesn't want to join us for lunch?" Artie had offered, seeing Santana walk out of the cafeteria with an apple before heading to her car and not even greeting Brittany with a kiss like usual.

Brittany had shrugged, "we're not talking right now, so…"

And that was the flashing green light Dalia had been waiting for.

They weren't _talking_. That meant things in paradise were fucked, right?

Maybe she wasn't over Brittany, and maybe she had a chance after all.

/

"Man, I guess they really are breaking up," Ryder whispers conspiringly.

"What do you mean?" Artie says. 'They drive in together all the time, I was under the impression they lived together."

Dalia smirks, "no. It's true. Brittany told me herself they weren't talking. We've also been doing a lot of one-on-one studying, you know? I think she's testing me. I think this is my chance."

Ryder fist bumps her, but Artie looks hesitant, "um… but I saw them sharing a coffee this morning. That's pretty couply isn't it? Like, they shared the same cup and exchanged a ton of indirect kisses."

Dalia and Ryder both frown at that.

"I dunno, do lesbians break up and stay friends often?" Ryder questions her.

Dalia should know this, she's a lesbian after all, but "there's no definite thing. I have like, one ex I still hang out with. My other ex hates me, and the other other ex I hate. Whatever. The point is, Lopez is going out of town for that Charity banquet and Brittany isn't going with her."

"How do you know this?" Artie asks her.

"Like I said, I've been studying with Britt a lot lately. She mentioned it. That sounds like they need space, you know? That's my in. I'll hang out with her this weekend, see if she wants to go with me to Mike's birthday party…"

"Dude, yeah," Ryder nods, "and I heard from Jake Puckerman who heard from his bro's girl Quinn who's like, childhood friends with Santana and Brittany or something about boarding school, that it's true they're not talking."

Artie looks surprised, "huh. Well, I guess it could be true then…"

/

Dalia waits patiently (nervously and excitedly) outside _Fuq_, the bar they were celebrating classmate Mike Chang's birthday at. He was second best to Brittany in grades and praise, but the two got along really well and Dalia had become his friend first so she could _properly_ meet and become Brittany's friend ever since she saw her at that party, made her a drink, and decided Brittany was the perfect girl.

"Hey!" Brittany gets out of a cab and looks stunning in her sandals and white dress – a real angel.

Dalia kicks off the wall and puts on her most charming smile. This was the night, it was her and Brittany (and no Santana).

They greet each other and say a few pleasantries. They get their ID's checked at the door, and then Dalia pays for Britt's cover. When Brittany raises her eyebrow, Dalia just tilts her chin at the bar and requests a beer in exchange.

Brittany smiles brightly at her and gets them both drinks before they find their friends huddled in a corner with Mike laughing in the center.

After Brittany has greeted Mike with a tight hug and demanded he have a birthday drink on her after he's done his current one, everyone starts complaining about lectures and professors and then Ryder asks about Santana.

"Heard you guys weren't speaking?" Dalia feels her heart pound as she waits for the truth.

Brittany just laughs though, "we weren't!"

"So you're cool now?" Someone asks.

"Um... yeah, we were just having a talking contest."

That wasn't what anyone expected, and Dalia only laughs because… that can't be right.

"Yeah," Brittany smiles shyly at the disbelief and demands for explanation, "whoever spoke first lost. You know? We did that. I won, so she had to do a thousand pushups."

"She can do a thousand pushups?" Mike says in astonishment.

Giggling, Brittany shakes her head. "She can do like, fifty at a time. So she's at four hundred right now and she has to finish them when she gets back."

The night feels ruined for Dalia, and she does maybe a few more shots than she intended. Ryder looks crestfallen for her and shrugs, but he doesn't get it.

He doesn't get that this isn't just a crush anymore, it's…

"Brittany, can we talk?" she finds herself asking.

Brittany looks at her funny but nods, "um, sure. Outside?"

They go outside and nobody's there. The bouncer is more inside and it's almost last call so nobody is coming. A cab driver waves them in but they wave him off and leans against the brick side of the building.

Instead of saying anything, Dalia just moves off the wall and then plants her lips as gently as she can against Brittany's – only to have Brittany turn away before the touch is complete and step back in an instant.

"No," Brittany says apologetically but firm.

Feeling embarrassed but mostly upset, Dalia shakes her head, "seriously? Santana doesn't have to know – she doesn't _deserve_ you anyways."

"Excuse me?" Brittany looks surprised.

"You're too good for her!" Dalia tries to get Brittany to see. "I would actually love you, Brittany. I would actually respect you… I want you."

"No," Brittany says firmly, again. She sets her jaw and then with a hasty goodnight thrown over her shoulder she gets into a cab and leaves.

/

When the long weekend is over, it's back to lectures.

Santana's Lamborghini is the first thing Dalia sees Monday morning, all shiny and with its owner leaning against the door. A phone in one hand and a coffee cup in another.

In a few years, she'd be a doctor. Then she'd be able to afford her own Lamborghini and maybe then Brittany would give her a chance.

"Dalia."

She pauses, and spins around to see Brittany staring at her intently.

"Hey," she says, swallowing her dry throat. She can't help it, her body thrums bitterly. She jerks her chin at Santana's presence a bit away from them, "I get it. She's _all_ _that_ and whatever. A real fucking catch."

She doesn't hold back on the sarcasm or disappointment.

Brittany's lips lift in what looks like a smile (after a lingering, searching stare), "can we talk?"

"Sure," Dalia looks around and gestures to the bench. She sits down after Brittany and they're both stuck staring at Santana who seems to be oblivious to their conversation as she's engrossed with her phone and coffee-sipping.

"I love her," Brittany says first. "It's not something I did to get into med school and it's certainly not for her money either. I know a lot of people think that about me but… when my friends think that about me it hurts, you know?"

Dalia stay quiet because on one hand Brittany is her friend but on the other hand she realizes Brittany is truly friend zoning her.

And it's going to hurt.

"The first night we met you flirted with me," Dalia interrupts her. "I thought… and then you guys weren't talking and…"

"We weren't together _then_ and I'm sorry if you thought I was leading you on, I never thought I was." Brittany is unapologetic in her honesty and it feels like a Band-Aid is being ripped off a healing wound. Dalia clenches a fist. "Love makes people to crazy things and I loved her but she wouldn't admit she loved me and things got immature. I'm sorry. I was drunk and tried to make her a little jealous… I thought it was harmless flirting."

Dalia closes her eyes.

Harmless flirting. It was true, she knows she's the one who cultivated her feelings into something more.

"We're friends, I never thought of you as anything more than my friend," Brittany gives the final knife twist.

"So there's no chance for me, then?" Dalia asks.

Brittany exhales her negative, "I love her."

After a moment, one where it's out in the open and she's been rejected, Dalia sees Santana answer a phonecall. The sound of her speaking irritably carries over.

Dalia huffs at the personality she sees and stands, "you can do better."

"She's the best," Brittany says before Dalia can storm off. She says it so simply and surely it catches Dalia off guard. "She lifts me back up when I feel down and she makes me feel alive. She loves me too, you know. Maybe it's because I've known her for so long, maybe it's because I just _get_ her but she's an amazing person and… I wish you could see that. She's _amazing_."

Dalia stops being friends with Brittany after that. She's a sore loser, what can she say. Brittany graduates with honours and becomes a fucking neurosurgeon years later, and Dalia finds a woman who loves her and wants things in life she wants (and who she loves too, enough to marry and cherish).

Santana graduates med school (barely) but she never works as a doctor. Dalia doesn't hear much about her or ever talk to her, but one day she's walking down a busy street and she sees a yellow Lamborghini parked on the street. Leaning against it is Santana and she's smiling bright. All Dalia catches are the last words she utters into her cell phone, "Love you too, Britt." Then the motherfucker has the audacity to help an old lady cross the street.

Objectively, Santana Lopez was not a bad person.


End file.
